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ELEVEN LITERARY AGENTS REVEAL WHAT THEY WANT TO READ, HOW TO QUERY THEM, WHAT INSPIRES THEM, AND HOW THEY WILL KNOW IF YOU’RE THE ONE
Eleven literary agents reveal what they want to read, how to query them, what inspires them, and how they will know if you’re the one.
IF YOU research an agent online, at Publishers Marketplace, the industry’s hub for information on book deals, or elsewhere, you will likely find a wealth of information about that agent, including what kinds of books they sell and to whom and a detail or two about the deal. But if you are a writer looking to find an agent, you might also be curious to know who these agents are as readers, not just as dealmakers. What are they thinking when they encounter a book they love? What starts whirring through their minds when they come across a writer they want to represent? What recently published books have they read, and what kinds of art are they drawn to as creative individuals? We asked a group of agents to share how they read and how they know if a writer is a good fit for them, if it’s a “gut instinct,” as Sarah Fuentes of Fletcher & Company says, or a “sense of urgency” as Chad Luibl at Janklow & Nesbit Associates describes. We also asked how they are adjusting to the pandemic, and their replies about caring for the authors they represent and respecting the time of the editors they pitch are reminders of how agents connect writers to the publishing world and, ultimately, to their readers, helping to hold everything together. All these agents are open to queries, so we recommend that if you find one or two who seem like a possible match, research their client lists and get in touch only if you’ve fine-tuned your manuscript or proposal and made it the best it can be.
Sarah Bowlin
Aevitas Creative Management
Who she represents: I’ve been an agent for about three years—after a decade on the editorial side—and I’m building a list of mostly literary fiction, with a select bit of nonfiction. It’s been a delight to watch some of the writers I represent finally have their books out in the world, including debut novels from Ays¸egül Savas¸ and Kevin Nguyen, short fiction from Bonnie Chau and Souvankham Thammavongsa, a new novel by Shane Jones, a children’s book by Melanie LaBarge and Caroline Corrigan, and, later this summer, new novels from the wonderful Lynn Steger Strong and Vanessa Veselka.
What she likes: Writing that’s gorgeous yet somehow off-kilter will always pull on me. I love both fiction and nonfiction that is obsessed with or deeply contemplative of place and space, books that interrogate ideas and help us see the world differently. I love language, but I also want urgency—stakes. Right now I’m particularly interested in a transporting experience. My family is very Southern— Kentucky by way of northern Florida—but my dad was in the military, so we moved every couple of years. When we first arrived at a new post and I didn’t have friends yet, a book I loved could take me to a familiar place, could be an old friend—complicated, interesting, alive enough to read over and over. I’m always chasing that feeling.
How she knows: I slow down so I can be immersed, but I also get an itchy feeling. I start taking notes and formulating questions, as though I’m preparing for the big conversation I know I want to have with the writer. I feel both like I must speak to that person right away and that I want to gush and tell everyone I know about the book.
On her bookshelf: I very much loved Lily King’s Writers & Lovers (Grove Press, 2020), which I just read, and will devour anything Deborah Levy writes and feel like The Cost of Living: A
Working Autobiography (Bloomsbury Publishing, 2018) should be required reading. Namwali Serpell’s The Old Drift (Hogarth, 2019) is incredible; Kristen Arnett’s Mostly Dead Things
(Tin House Books, 2019) made me cry—I love books set in Florida, and, man, she got it right. I was riveted by Helen Phillips’s The Need (Simon & Schuster, 2019)—full disclosure, I worked on previous books with her as her editor but don’t represent her. And Sarah M. Broom’s The Yellow
House (Grove Press, 2019) is exquisite.
Art she loves: I like a lot of different kinds of music, but I love old country music. I grew up with it, so it’s nostalgic and comforting, but the storytelling can be interesting too. John Prine, Dolly Parton, or Loretta Lynn. The Judds. Lucinda Williams, a category of her own. I danced for a long time and will see the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater any time they’re in town; I have been watching some of their pieces online in quarantine. The L.A. Dance Project. In a different vein, late last year in New York I saw Jeremy O. Harris’s
Slave Play and was gobsmacked. I love movies, and two recent standouts for me have been Eliza Hittman’s new film Never Rarely Sometimes Always and RaMell Ross’s extraordinary
Hale County This Morning, This Evening. In terms of visual art, the work of Lorna Simpson, Marisa Merz, and Karen Lamassonne. I love Sally Mann and walking through or around a Richard Serra sculpture. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: I’m grateful that the publishing world is future-oriented—if we don’t think about books we might want to read in two years now, we won’t have great books to read. In such a strange and uncertain time, that has been a balm, as books always are. So the changes I see in how I submit projects are around wanting to be respectful of people’s time and lives as they juggle working from home with kids, spouses, the weight of this strange moment on their shoulders. I am e-mailing more and calling people less.
How the pandemic has affected her work: I already worked from home a few days a week before this started, so I felt perhaps a little more used to my at-home routines than others, though I miss the in-person interaction with editors and writers. I travel quite a bit, and that has, of course, been disrupted. Zoom can do only so much. But a sense of uncertainty, anxiety, and fear comes in waves, and I’m sure that affects how most of us work. I’m taking comfort—and trying to impart that comfort to the writers I work with—in the fact that people are turning to books, that there are extraordinary acts of support and kindness happening in the publishing community.
Contact: Directly via e-mail (sbowlin @aevitascreative.com) or through Aevitas’s website (aevitascreative.com). I respond to both if the work speaks to me. But a warning: I’m often pretty slow.
Chad Luibl
Janklow & Nesbit Associates
Who he represents: My list is a mix of memoir, journalism, literary fiction, and graphic novels. The Compton Cowboys: The New Generation of
Cowboys in America’s Urban Heartland (William Morrow, 2020) by Walter ThompsonHernández is a recent publication that I’m especially proud to have worked on, and this summer I’ve got two debut novels I’m really excited about—Brian Castleberry’s Nine Shiny
Objects (Custom House) and Rachel Beanland’s
Florence Adler Swims Forever (Simon & Schuster). I also work with Ezra Claytan Daniels, whose Upgrade Soul (Oni Press, 2018) is one of the most mind-blowing and emotional graphic novels I’ve ever read. My first sale was several years ago, a heartwarming hybrid of military memoir and animal rescue story—Craig Grossi’s Craig & Fred: A Marine, a Stray Dog, and How They Rescued Each Other (Speck, 2017). What he likes: I come from an MFA in fiction where just about every workshop emphasized the importance of a “strong emotional core,” and as vague as that may sound, for me it really is the most important aspect to every story I’ve read, whether it is a debut novel or an exposé written by a journalist. The work has to have characters with very real and relevant conflicts,
and their emotional journey has to move the reader—and we should feel that energy very early on in the story. For nonfiction, even when it’s a story that’s based on an article, I’m first drawn to the characters and their complexities. I have a book with Washington Post sports journalist Kent Babb called Across the River, which deals with football and gun violence, but really what made me fall in love with the article that inspired the book was the supercomplex, raw, and flawed hero at its center—a high school football coach who is living a sort of double life helping his players on and off the field. So in a way, much of the nonfiction I love has the same ingredients of a good novel. With fiction I really appreciate those literary writers who embrace genre, whether that’s something historical or a romance or even a western, because it means we’re getting a plotty, character-driven book that still has the sensibility of a writer who’s really polished their craft. I often point to Benjamin Percy’s book Thrill Me: Essays on Fiction (Graywolf Press, 2016) when I talk about this balance of genre and literary. I highly recommend that book. I’ve found that many of the stories that really sweep me away are ambitious in scope— multiple settings, multiple points of view—and present the reader with a conflict within the first ten pages.
How he knows: First I feel a blend of intrigue and curiosity and then a sense of urgency to read more, and also a very literal urgency to get in touch with the writer. A lot of agents talk about the “commute test,” when a book will hook you in so deeply that you end up missing your train stop. This has actually happened to me on a few occasions, and in a funny way it legitimizes the quality of a story, because great storytelling should be so immersive that it’s transportive.
On his bookshelf: In the Distance (Coffee House Press, 2017) by Hernan Diaz, Disappearing
Earth (Knopf, 2019) by Julia Phillips, Educated (Random House, 2018) by Tara Westover, Heavy: An American Memoir (Scribner, 2018) by
Kiese Laymon, and All the Answers (Gallery 13,
2018) by Michael Kupperman.
Art he loves: I’m very much into music, ranging from ambient to indie rock to death metal. I’m not one of those people who only stick to what they know either—I’m always trying to discover new songwriters and bands.
How the pandemic has changed the way he approaches editors: For sure, things have slowed down, and I think agents are being sensitive to what types of books can or should rise above the crisis we’re facing. We are also considering the fact that many editors have children, and finding time to read is difficult, so I think there’s a new level of patience and understanding when books move slower. I’ve found the new circumstances endearing in a way because it’s now impossible to not consider editors’ lives at home and their readjusted work habits. There seems to be a new level of appreciation and respect in the publishing community and a sense of solidarity that we are all in this together with a shared understanding that reading is more crucial now than ever before.
How the pandemic has affected his work: Every week it seems we’re in a new phase, but for the most part the transition to remote work has been seamless. What started as shock quickly transitioned to hope, and there have been some really inspiring initiatives in the publishing community like virtual readings, new ways of marketing books, and new retailers like Bookshop.org. I’m one of the lucky few who has a job in an industry that’s still considered relatively healthy, and I’m grateful for that. But the biggest challenge by far has been finding the time and focus to read submissions or edit while also balancing parenting and the onslaught of bad news just one click away.
Contact: I am always open to queries, and I prefer an e-mail (cluibl@janklow.com) with the first fifty pages attached.
Kiele Raymond
Thompson Literary Agency
Who she represents: Lee Matalone, author of Home Making (Harper Perennial, 2020); Tana
Wojczuk, author of Lady Romeo: The Radical and Revolutionary Life of Charlotte Cushman, America’s First Celebrity (Avid Reader Press, 2020); Ari Braverman, author of The Ballad of
Big Feeling (Melville House, 2020); and Peace Adzo Medie, author of His Only Wife, forthcoming from Algonquin Books in September 2020.
What she likes: I prefer stories that resist neat emotional arcs and involve some tonal dissonance. I especially love a cold, distant omniscient narrator and characters who have to confront their own mythmaking in some way. I am a big fan of characters who are caught up in the cultural wake of failing or shifting institutions. I am currently at work on novels that are set in and around a federal prison in 1990s California, a quarry town in 1950s Vermont, and an island commune in Maoist China.
How she knows: I stand at attention when I come across prose that leaves space for me as a reader. That does not necessarily mean the writing is spare or understated but that it is clear the writer trusts their instinct over their intention. Perhaps an apt metaphor is how painters do not conjure a face out of two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Instead they look to the light, color, and shadows. I am thrilled when seemingly disparate parts begin to coalesce in surprising ways.
On her bookshelf: I had so much fun with Susan Choi’s Trust Exercise (Henry Holt, 2019); it was keen and horny and electric. I still think about Hot Milk (Bloomsbury USA, 2016) by Deborah Levy when I’m editing. I first read an excerpt of C Pam Zhang’s How
Much of These Hills Is Gold (Riverhead Books, 2020) in the Missouri Review and knew it was going to be a game changer. A must-read this year. Kimberly King Parsons put out a gangbusters story collection last year called Black
Light (Vintage, 2019). And finally Lot (Riverhead Books, 2019) by Bryan Washington, an instant classic.
Art she loves: Across mediums, some favorite artists, literary and otherwise, are Agnes Martin, Clyfford Still, James Agee, Berenice Abbott, Robyn, Alison Krauss, Misty Copeland, Julio Torres, Erin Lee Carr, and Anaïs Mitchell. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: I miss pitching in person over lunch or drinks, but other than that not much has changed in the way of submitting. The reads are taking a bit longer, but that is to be expected.
How the pandemic has affected her work:
It is sad to think that my clients with books
coming out this summer might not have the chance to celebrate with in-person book launches and readings. Bookstores are such important communal spaces, and I cannot wait for the day they can reopen their doors. In the meantime I hope everyone will shop at Bookshop.org.
Contact: I am open to queries year-round. Writers can submit their query letters and a twentyfive page sample via e-mail to submissions @thompsonliterary.com.
Amy Elizabeth Bishop
Dystel, Goderich & Bourret
Who she represents: I represent a wide range of both fiction and nonfiction, in both adult and children’s. In adult fiction: The Widow of
Rose House (Griffin, 2019) by Diana Biller and
The Last Story of Mina Lee (Park Row Books, September 2020) by Nancy Jooyoun Kim. In adult nonfiction: Running That Doesn’t Suck: How to Love Running (Even If You Think You Hate It) (Running Press Adult, 2019) by Lisa
Jhung; A Dirty Year: Sex, Suffrage, and Scandal in Gilded Age New York (Chicago Review Press, 2020) by Bill Greer; and Voice Lessons: How a Couple of Ninja Turtles, Pinky, and an Animaniac
Saved My Life (Viva Editions, 2019) by Rob Paulsen with Michael Fleeman.
What she likes: I’m always drawn to work by women and minority voices and stories that uncover a hidden moment in history. I love work that explores family dynamics and those relationships. A strong voice paired with excellent writing will always keep me reading. I always hope to be surprised, learn something, or be moved by the work I read.
How she knows: I usually know pretty early on—for fiction I start getting a tingly feeling and an excited churn in my stomach. And usually I can’t put it down—I think I read the last novel I knew I wanted to rep in four hours. It’s a really thrilling feeling. For nonfiction I’m
usually reading a proposal, not a full manuscript, but I’m usually hooked by the idea first. If I think their platform or credentials are going to support the material, then I’ll usually reach out, but it’s a bit of a different ballgame with nonfiction.
On her bookshelf: The Alice Network (William Morrow Paperbacks, 2017) by Kate Quinn, Red, White & Royal Blue (Griffin, 2019) by Casey McQuiston, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (Atria Books, 2017) by Taylor Jenkins Reid, Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion (Random House, 2019) by Jia Tolentino, and Dreamland: The True Tale of America’s Opiate Epidemic (Bloomsbury Press, 2015) by Sam Quinones. I feel like I’ve been a huge evangelist for all these books recently—they’re all such smart, enjoyable reads.
Art she loves: As the pandemic rages on and we’ve been shut away, I’ve been leaning toward pop music with a good beat to get me energized and upbeat. Dua Lipa’s album Future Nostalgia and Taylor Swift’s
Lover have been getting me through. When I can I also love going to the opera—there’s something to be said for these grand stories playing out onstage, and going to the Met always feels so luxurious. La Traviata and
Carmen remain evergreen favorites for me. And right before COVID-19 hit, I had the opportunity to see Lauren Yee’s tremendous play Cambodian Rock Band, which has stayed with me in a profound way. How the pandemic has changed the way
she approaches editors: Our agency has actually been submitting pretty much as usual—we’ve seen some nice, consistent sales over the last month and we are still reading and signing up authors. I think one thing I’m doing more of these days is pinging editors and calling them up to pitch work to them directly before sending—I don’t always, but if I know the editor, I also like to check in and see how they’re doing, feeling about new work, and reading right now. The whole pandemic has been such an emotional roller coaster, and we’re all just figuring it out the best we can.
How the pandemic has affected her work: Well, we’re all working remotely from our homes now, which we feel fortunate to be able to do. So instead of being at my desk, I’m at my coffee table or my bedroom desk. Apart from the physical realities, emotional fatigue has been tough to battle over the last month. There are days when I just hit a wall and have to accept that reading or editing is going to be tough that day. But then, of course, there are other days that are insanely productive, so it’s more of a balancing act than it was when we were in the office full-time. On the whole though, I’d argue that I’ve felt more focused and productive working from home, which is a positive.
Contact: Writers should e-mail a query letter and twenty-five pages in the body of the e-mail to abishop@dystel.com. We never close for submissions, so they’re welcome to query when their work is polished and ready.
Sarah Fuentes
Fletcher & Company
Who she represents: Rina Raphael, The Gospel of Wellness (Henry Holt, 2021); A. Natasha
Joukovsky, The Portrait of a Mirror (Overlook
Press, 2021); Keri Blakinger, Corrections in
Ink, forthcoming from St. Martin’s Press; Emily Neuberger, A Tender Thing (G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020); Lynn Coady Watching
You Without Me (Knopf, 2020); Sarah Everts, The Joy of Sweat, forthcoming from Norton; Melanie Abrams, Meadowlark (Little A, 2020); and Kenneth R. Rosen, Troubled: The Failed Promise of America’s Behavioral Treatment Programs (Little A, 2021).
What she likes: Regardless of genre I’m always looking for bold, fresh voices and a beautifully crafted sentence. With fiction I tend to be particularly drawn to stories that explore the messy inner workings of relationships, complicated emotional landscapes, and the ways in which we see ourselves and others. I also love writing that has a dark or comedic flair: darkly comedic, better still. With nonfiction I’m interested in literary memoir, narrative
reportage, cultural history and criticism, and history with a surprising point of view. I’m always keen to read work that explores pop culture in a critical way as well.
How she knows: It’s always a gut instinct for me. With fiction it so often comes down to a connection with the voice and the emotional stakes of the story. But in any genre, I know when a manuscript is a good fit when I’m completely absorbed by the read, and even when I bring myself to put it down, it lingers with me and draws me back in.
On her bookshelf: I’m not alone in this, I know, but I can’t start any such list without Sally Rooney’s Normal People (Hogarth, 2019) at the very top. That book is perfection to me.
The Idiot (Penguin Press, 2017) by Elif Batuman, The Friend (Riverhead Books, 2018) by Sigrid Nunez, and The Need (Simon & Schuster, 2019) by Helen Phillips are also recent favorites. And On Immunity: An Inoculation
(Graywolf Press, 2014) by Eula Biss, which was published almost six years ago, but I just reread it during quarantine, and it packs even more of a punch.
Art she loves: I studied art history in college and have always enjoyed visual art, so I try to see new shows that open from time to time. More often than not, though, I’d rather spend an afternoon in a dark theater over a touristpacked museum. I’m lucky to live close by to BAM [Brooklyn Academy of Music], where they have a fun film series and pretty decent popcorn. As they’re shuttered and I’m sheltered for the time being though, I’m forced to make do with screenings of the Real Housewives at home. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: I haven’t found myself in the position where I feel like I need to hold back on a submission just yet, but I am thinking very carefully about how best to handle some of my other projects that might be ready soon. Even beyond considering what material might resonate now, I’m trying to be extremely thoughtful about which editors I plan to target. Everyone has so much on their plates right now, both professionally and personally, and I want to be sure to submit to those editors who have the time and bandwidth to consider new projects and are eager to acquire.
How the pandemic has affected her work: I had a few books come out in the early days of the pandemic, and managing those publications, amid so much uncertainty, has been a real challenge. I always like to be deeply involved throughout publication, but now more than ever, I’m rolling up my sleeves and trying to be creative about marketing and publicity and how best to help these books find the readers they deserve. I’ve been really heartened to see just how supportive the literary community has been in response to all this, with authors offering to help signal-boost, bookstore events going virtual, and publications expanding their coverage. I’m hopeful that when these tough times are finally behind us, we’ll hold on to some of these tools and energy and be better for it.
Contact: It’s best to reach out via e-mail (sarah@fletcherandco.com). For fiction, I typically ask writers to wait until they have a complete, polished manuscript ready to share. For nonfiction, a draft of a proposal.
Jess Regel
Foundry Literary + Media
Who she represents: I represent fiction and nonfiction in both the children’s and adult markets. Some of my authors include Bryn Greenwood, All the Ugly and Wonderful Things
(Thomas Dunne Books, 2016); Maulik Pancholy, The Best at It (Balzer and Bray, 2019); Pablo Cartaya, Each Tiny Spark (Kokila, 2019); Emily M. Danforth, The Miseducation of Cameron Post (Balzer and Bray, 2012); Shea Ernshaw, The Wicked Deep (Simon Pulse, 2018);
Libby Copeland, The Lost Family: How DNA Testing Is Upending Who We Are (Abrams Press,
2020); and Nora McInerny, It’s Okay to Laugh
(Crying Is Cool Too) (Dey Street Books, 2016). What she likes: In both fiction and nonfiction I’m drawn to voice-driven stories paired with a compulsive plot. In fiction I particularly like upmarket fiction that has some sort of nonfiction hook. Meaning it can start a conversation about a contemporary social issue without reading like homework. And I’m known for representing diverse voices. In the nonfiction space I focus on journalism and memoir and tend to connect most with books that are for a female audience. Also, I’m from the Midwest, so I’m always on the lookout for stories set outside of the East or West Coast. But, to be honest, beyond practical nonfiction and picture books, I’m open to any book that wows me.
How she knows: It feels like magic! Like you suddenly have tunnel vision and all you can do is keep reading. Like there are bees buzzing under your skin, and you can’t wait to fly through the manuscript so that you can call the author and fangirl gush.
On her bookshelf: Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder (Metropolitan Books, 2017) by Caroline Fraser,
An American Marriage (Algonquin Books, 2018) by Tayari Jones, Bone Gap (Balzer and Bray, 2015) by Laura Ruby, The Power
(Little, Brown, 2017) by Naomi Alderman, and City of Girls (Riverhead Books, 2019) by Elizabeth Gilbert.
Art she loves: I’m a country music fan— especially the women of country. And I could listen to Brandi Carlile on loop. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: For new submissions I’m only going out with projects that are either (a) relevant to the crisis somehow, (b) so beyond fun that it will be an escape for editors, or (c) established authors of mine who are under option with a publisher. For everyone else I’m waiting until things settle down before submitting, because I think everyone is distracted by the news cycle and their own health and family issues. I’m hoping things will be back to “normal” by the fall.
How the pandemic has affected her work: Well, I have young kids, so until our daycare opens back up, my hours have definitely changed. I now work around their nap schedules, or late in the evening, or on a split screen with a toddler watching nursery rhymes beside me. For most people it’s no longer a nine-to-five job. It’s an “any time I can find the time” job, so I’m more understanding of that. I’ve still sold books during the last few weeks, but the process has been slower. I also had a few books that were
published in March and April, and those authors had their in-person events canceled. They quickly pivoted to online events. We haven’t seen those events translate into sales just yet, but I think it’s an interesting space to watch and see what happens. It could become a lower-cost way for authors and publishers to promote books in the future. But, overall, I’m mostly optimistic. Books, in some form, will always be relevant. My job as an agent is to make sure my writers get fairly compensated for their work. The industry might change, but the work remains the same.
Contact: Writers can e-mail their query to me at jrsubmissions@foundrymedia.com. I’m always open to submissions.
Arielle Datz
Dunow, Carlson & Lerner Literary Agency
Who she represents: M. L. Rio, author of If We Were Villains (Flatiron Books, 2017) and Mark Rader, author of The Wanting Life
(Unnamed Press, 2020).
What she likes: I am drawn to upmarket and literary fiction—I am very plot-focused, but I want strong, well-written prose as well. I do enjoy speculative elements and grounded fantasy, but I need a realistic inroad to really engage me. I look for a singular voice and unique circumstances, as well as a meticulously crafted story.
How she knows: It’s an adrenaline rush; it feels like falling in love. I find myself wanting to tell everyone I know about this writer and this story, gushing about it. The characters and ideas begin to inhabit my head, and I just feel so excited.
On her bookshelf: Ninth House (Flatiron
Books, 2019) by Leigh Bardugo, The Starless Sea (Doubleday, 2019) by Erin Morgenstern, Less (Lee Boudreaux Books, 2017) by Andrew Sean Greer, Life After Life (Reagan Arthur Books, 2013) by Kate Atkinson, and Shrill:
Notes From a Loud Woman (Hachette, 2016) by Lindy West.
Art she loves: I myself am a vocal performer, and I love contemporary choral music, like that by John Tavener and Joby Talbot. Recently I’ve been listening to Fiona Apple and Maggie Rogers a lot. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: It is maybe causing agents to consider editors differently—some are less focused on acquiring at the moment than others. I also think it is affecting how we think about timing. In a normal world, publishing gets quite dead for new acquisitions in the summer and near the winter holidays since editors are traveling. But now that travel—at least in the summer—seems unlikely, it’s possible more editors will be more eager to read since they’ll be home and will need reading material.
How the pandemic has affected her work: Logistically it has made a difference only when it comes to actual physical paperwork, but most publishers have quickly transitioned to electronic payment and electronic contracts. Otherwise it is much the same— reading, answering e-mails, and making phone calls. Psychologically and emotionally it’s different, of course; some days it’s harder to focus than others, and some days my anxiety or ennui can’t be ignored, but that’s just because I’m a person.
Contact: Writers can e-mail mail@dclagency .com and address their query letter to me; please also paste the first ten pages or so of your work at the end of your letter.
Shannon Hassan
Marsal Lyon Literary Agency
Who she represents: Dusti Bowling’s The Canyon’s Edge (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2020), a middle-grade novel-in-verse about wilderness survival and trauma; Jennie Liu’s Like Spilled Water (Carolrhoda Books, 2020), a young adult novel about gender and family expectations in contemporary China; Jennifer Moffett’s Those Who Prey (Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2020), a debut thriller based on a cult that pervaded college campuses in the nineties; and Debra Bokur’s
The Fire Thief (Kensington, 2020), a debut mystery series exploring Hawai’ian spirituality, by an award-winning travel writer.
What she likes: I am drawn to fresh voices, compelling characters, and crisp prose. Currently on my wish list for adult fiction: “book-club” reads that hit the sweet spot between literary and commercial; literary and upmarket suspense novels that are not espionage-based; multicultural stories; immigrant stories; historical fiction of all stripes, especially if offers a new perspective or a genre twist; and stories of the American West.
How she knows: I think about it throughout my day. Something happens that reminds me of a character in the story, or I find myself Googling the subject matter or period in history. Or it pops into my head when I’m hiking, or doing the dishes, and it’s like a puzzle I can’t put down—how the pacing could be improved, what a good title would be, or which editor might be right for it. If I’m already “working” on the story in my mind, then you’ve got me.
On her bookshelf: Station Eleven (Knopf,
2014) by Emily St. John Mandel, Nothing to
See Here (Ecco, 2019) by Kevin Wilson, The
Fountains of Silence (Philomel Books, 2019) by Ruta Sepetys, The Thing About Jellyfish ( Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2015) by Ali Benjamin, and Red Lightning (Counterpoint Press, 2015) by Laura Pritchett.
Art she loves: I love public art and street art and how it reflects the community, creates dialogue, and is accessible—you don’t need to buy a ticket or arrive at a certain time. I look for it with my teenagers when we travel. Here in Colorado, I’ve enjoyed Craig Walsh’s Monuments in Breckenridge and LMNOPI’s Uncounted, recently dedicated to the Dairy Arts Center in Boulder—it’s a beautiful portrait of a “Miss Native American” winner, but underneath you can see tallied hash marks representing missing and murdered Indigenous women. Powerful.
How the pandemic has changed the way
she approaches editors: Most of the editors I work with are still reading and considering submissions, and I feel fortunate to be closing book deals for my authors. Books acquired now won’t be published until at least 2021, or more likely 2022—one is even set for 2023. So the slow process of publishing is finally a good thing—ha! But it is a difficult and uncertain time in the industry, with bookstores closing and layoffs at some presses…I really hope it is temporary.
How the pandemic has affected her work: The pandemic has really affected the marketing and publicity of books. For my authors who had book launches scheduled this spring or summer, it has been heartbreaking to watch everything get canceled—book signings, industry conferences, launch parties, etc. Authors and publicists are trying to get creative with virtual events, but it’s tough.
Contact: I’m open to e-mail queries. Please send your query letter and ten sample pages to shannon@marsallyonliteraryagency .com.
Stephanie Delman
Sanford J. Greenburger Associates
Who she represents: Julia Fine, What Should Be Wild (Harper, 2018); Serena Burdick, The Girls With No Names (Park Row Books, 2020); Zakiya Dalila Harris,
The Other Black Girl (Atria Books, 2021); Amy Feltman, Willa & Hesper (Grand Central Publishing, 2019); and Katie M. Flynn, The Companions (Gallery/Scout Press, 2020). A more extensive list includes Madeline Stevens, Jessica Gross, Chantal James, Catherine Lowell, Jennie Melamed, Theodore Wheeler, Alison Wisdom, J. Nicole Jones, Dami Lee, Amanda Litman, Audrey Murray, Meryl Rowin, Sara Bissell Rubin, Kate Wisel, Jenny Tinghui Zhang, and Monet Patrice Thomas.
What she likes: Propulsive fiction, primarily—elevated writing that is driven by plot, wit, and copious imagination. Ghost stories. Literary mysteries and twisted friendships. Braided narratives that come together at just the right moment. Characters driven by obsession, curiosity, empathy, and longing. I love high-concept fiction and work that is unafraid to blur the lines of genre, borrowing elements of magical realism or horror in order to better understand our world.
How she knows: It feels like falling in love. Really! My heart races, my palms sweat. I think about my editorial vision and hope that the author is on the same page; about midway through the manuscript, I often start a mental list of editors I want to tell about the project. That’s when I know I’m a goner: when I’m already two steps ahead, pitching the book in my mind.
On her bookshelf: The Incendiaries (Riverhead Books, 2018) by R. O. Kwon, The Queen
of the Night (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2016) by Alexander Chee, Supper Club (G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2019) by Lara Williams,
Her Body and Other Parties (Graywolf Press, 2017) by Carmen Maria Machado, and My
Sister, the Serial Killer (Doubleday, 2018) by Oyinkan Braithwaite.
Art she loves: Right now I’m enjoying listening to the latest Fiona Apple album, Mitski, and Lake Street Dive. Choreography and modern dance by performers like Ayano Elson and Kim Brandt. Recent films like Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Parasite, and Midsommar. How the pandemic has changed the way she approaches editors: I haven’t sent anything on a wide submission since we’ve been in quarantine. When I do I will make sure each editor is in a position to consider new manuscripts; everyone’s bandwidth is different right now, as are our attention spans.
How the pandemic has affected her work: I have less mental stamina, like most of us, and I’m struggling to read the darker, more densely literary submissions that usually catch my eye. I’m focused more on author care, less on seeking out new material, and I’m trying to connect with my colleagues across the industry to maintain that essential sense of community.
Contact: E-mail me at sdelman@sjga.com, and be sure to put “Query: [your book’s title] by [your name]” in the subject line. Include a brief letter and the first few chapters in the body of your e-mail, and if I’m interested in reading further, I’ll be in touch within four to six weeks.
Stacy Testa
Writers House
Who she represents: I represent a wide range of adult fiction writers, from upmarket commercial “book-club” novelists like the New
York Times best-selling author Kim Michele Richardson, The Book Woman of Troublesome
Creek (Sourcebooks Landmark, 2019); Kirsty Manning, The Song of the Jade Lily (William Morrow, 2019); and Julie Carrick Dalton, Waiting for the Night Song (Forge, 2021) to authors of critically acclaimed literary fiction, such as Abbigail N. Rosewood, If I Had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019); Rheea Mukherjee, The
Body Myth (Unnamed Press, 2019); and Lucie Britsch, Sad Janet (Riverhead Books, 2020). On the nonfiction side I represent an eclectic mix of memoirists such as Clara Bensen, No Baggage: A Minimalist Tale of Love and Wandering (Running Press Adult, 2016) and Maggie Rowe, Sin
Bravely: A Memoir of Spiritual Disobedience (Soft Skull Press, 2017); investigative journalists like Gabrielle Paluch, Opium Queen, forthcoming from Rowman & Littlefield; social justice advocates including Joanne Goldblum and Colleen Shaddox, Broke in America: Seeing Understanding, and Ending U.S. Poverty, forthcoming from BenBella Books; academics such as Dr. Gerta Keller (the forthcoming Volcanic); and writers of “books for a better life” including Emma Isaacs, Winging It: Stop Thinking, Start Doing
(Sounds True, 2020) and the New York Times best-selling author Sarah Wilson, First, We Make the Beast Beautiful: A New Journey Through
Anxiety (Dey Street Books, 2018).
What she likes: I’m drawn to writing that both illuminates and inspires, inciting a tingle of recognition: “Oh, yes, that is what it feels like to be human, and yet I’ve never thought of it quite that way before.” To me this simultaneous sense of familiarity and freshness—of feeling both seen and made to see in a new light—is intoxicating. I’m also drawn to writing that teaches me something new, vital, strange, intriguing, or revelatory about the world in which we live, especially if it’s in regard to a subject I never would have imagined to be of interest.
How she knows: I realize that I’ve unconsciously taken off my agent hat and slipped into the warm and comfortable role of reader. In other words, when I’ve stopped thinking about potential edits or critiques, ceased wondering who the audience is or what titles might be comparable, and allowed myself to sink fully into the immersive experience of reading. I will of course need to come back to all of these elements later, to the editing, market evaluation, and pitching that are, quite literally, my job. But if a manuscript can, however briefly, transport me from my professional mindset to that place of openness, engagement, and imagination that drew me to this industry in the first place, then I know it’s a match.
On her bookshelf: I absolutely loved the transcendent and transporting Circe (Little, Brown, 2018) by Madeline Miller—I highly recommend the audio edition, in particular, which is narrated beautifully by Perdita Weeks—and I adored Taffy BrodesserAkner’s Fleishman Is in Trouble (Random House, 2019), a character-driven novel that seamlessly blends humor and social commentary and delivers one hell of a gut punch. On the memoir side I’ve never laughed out loud as much as I did when reading Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy (Riverhead Books, 2017), nor have I been as simultaneously educated and entertained as I was by Caitlin Doughty’s quirky look at death in Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons From the Crematory (Norton, 2014). Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Carmen Maria Machado’s In the Dream House (Graywolf Press, 2019), a poetic, inventive, raw, and painfully honest memoir.
Art she loves: I’m currently obsessed with Fiona Apple’s latest album, Fetch the Bolt
Cutters; I used to listen to her every morning on the way to school as a teenager, so it’s been really fun and nostalgic to hear new work from her. I’ve also been listening to favorite podcasts like You’re Wrong About, Pod Save the People, Invisibilia, and This American Life, of which I am a true loyalist. The best thing I’ve watched in quarantine so far has been Netflix’s miniseries Unorthodox, and I’m also planning to revisit my favorite series of all time, HBO’s Six Feet Under. How the pandemic has changed the way
she approaches editors: Editors are telling us it’s business as usual, and, for the most part, I’ve found that to be the case. I’ve still been actively submitting projects and have closed several deals and even had a few auctions in the first month of quarantine. However, I am conscious of the fact that the pandemic is changing the way people see the world and, therefore, the kinds of stories they want to read. I wouldn’t feel hugely confident submitting a super-dark work of literary fiction or a gritty dystopian novel right now, for example.
How the pandemic has affected her work: My ability to focus has certainly been compromised; the work can sometimes feel inconsequential in the face of the high-stakes crisis we are facing. On the other hand I truly believe in the power of books to distract, comfort, instruct, and heal. So, in that sense, ushering great books to publication feels more urgent than ever.
Contact: Writers can query me via e-mail at stesta@writershouse.com when they have a completed manuscript or proposal by sending a query letter and the first five to ten pages of their manuscript.
Sarah Bolling
The Gernert Company
Who she represents: I represent a mix of fiction and nonfiction writers, including Chana Porter, The Seep (Soho Press, 2020); Claire McNear, Answers in the Form of Questions: A Definitive History and Insider’s Guide to Jeopardy! (Twelve, 2020); Rafia Zakaria, Against White Feminism (Norton, 2021); Adam Rowe,
Retro Sci-Fi Art (Abrams Books, 2021); Cher Martinetti of the podcast Forgotten Women
of Genre; Anne Elizabeth Moore; Rax King; and Lorelei Lee.
What she likes: I want to read work that surprises me, whether it’s teaching me something new, making me reconsider a long-held belief, bending genre, or experimenting with form and structure. I love books that reckon with desire and trauma in interesting ways, and I don’t mind a bummer ending. I want to be devastated or enlightened, or both.
How she knows: I gush to my partner about it and start putting together a hypothetical submission list in my head. If I want to share it, then I know.
On her bookshelf: The New Me (Penguin Books, 2019) by Halle Butler, Optic Nerve
(Catapult, 2019) by María Gainza and translated from the Spanish by Thomas Bunstead, In the Dream House (Graywolf Press, 2019) by Carmen Maria Machado,
The Book of X (Two Dollar Radio, 2019) by Sarah Rose Etter, and How to Write an Autobiographical Novel (Mariner Books, 2018) by Alexander Chee.
Art she loves: Outside of books I enjoy all kinds of storytelling: In theater, I love the work of Suzan-Lori Parks and Jeremy O. Harris; in film, the work of Paul Thomas Anderson and Park Chan-wook; in video games, the Metal Gear Solid franchise and Control; and on TV, Succession, Watchmen,
BoJack Horseman, and just about any truecrime documentary there is. How the pandemic has affected her work and the way she approaches editors: Although working from home every day— and otherwise not leaving home—has been an adjustment, self-quarantine has been business as usual. Still reading, still submitting, still looking for writers to take on.
Contact: I can be queried via info @thegernertco.com, ATTN: Sarah Bolling. For fiction I’d like for writers to have a complete manuscript ready to share. For nonfiction, a proposal draft, ideally including a sample chapter, will suffice.